


Phantom Predator

by videle



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin Hiccup, BAMF Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Badass Hiccup, Brainwashing, F/M, Gen, Hurt Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Torture, all badass hiccup ok? ok, badass hiccup haddock, brainwashed hiccup, inspired by the winter soldier, kidnapped Hiccup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/videle/pseuds/videle
Summary: "Hiccup?""Who the hell is Hiccup?"Inspired by The Winter Soldier. Hiccup is taken by a group of people who intend to wipe away his memories and turn him into their personal weapon. Did they succeed at doing it? Yes. Will they succeed at keeping it that way? Probably not.





	1. Chapter One

/

A thin Viking boy and a legendary black dragon zoomed across the cloudless blue sky, performing tricks and elegant maneuvers.

They move as one.

Later, he meets with his friends at Berk. They chat idly, crowded around a circular fire pit in the Great Hall. He feels at home. He feels content.

/

They fly as one while attacking Outcast ships close to Berk. Purple balls of fire are shot towards the ships, exploding the moment they come in contact with the wooden planks.

His friends fight as well. Astrid is atop her Deadly Nadder, who shoots spikes at Outcasts and fires ships down.

Snotlout rides Hookfang sloppily, but nonetheless does his part in the mission.

Fishlegs moves courageously with his Gronckle, who spews lava onto the decks.

The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, move rather collaboratively. Their Hideous Zippleback flies across ships, breathing green gas and lighting it with a flurry of sparks to ignite anything engulfed in the gas.

Their determination and teamwork wins them the fight. Their enemies flee.

/

When Berserkers attack, himself and Toothless are always there to fend them off. They fly in agreement, blasting away opponents, ships, and weapons. His companions do their jobs as well.  
He will do anything to protect the things he cares about.

/

Toothless soars peacefully in the dusky sky, with his rider sitting silently on his shoulders. The boy’s auburn hair ruffles slightly in the breeze, and the only sound is Toothless’ wing flaps.  
Out of nowhere comes a net, bringing them down.

They panic simultaneously as they begin crashing towards a foreign island. Toothless claws at the net, unable to get free. They hit the ground hard.

The moment the boy recovers, he grabs his flammable sword and cuts them free. They can both hear footsteps and voices.

"C'mon!" he tells Toothless. They race off together, away from the scene.

But as they flee, they can hear voices and footsteps behind them. They quicken the pace, and are prepared to fly away, but Hiccup realizes the prosthetic tailfin is damaged.

A slope comes up ahead, too slippery for them to keep their footing. Hiccup cries out in surprise as both he and Toothless slip and roll down the hill harshly.  
Hiccup grunts with each bounce, shutting his eyes and waiting for his body to stop rolling. He distantly hears Toothless roaring, then the dragon's voice being cut off abruptly.

The next time the boy opens his eyes, it's to see Toothless is passed out beside him. There's a gash on the dragon's head, indicating a rock had knocked him unconscious.  
Hiccup panics when their attackers get closer. Instinct kicks in and he runs off again, praying that they won't find Toothless. Even if he himself gets caught, hopefully Toothless won't be found by their attackers.

They find Hiccup, though.

It's all too easy for them to capture him.

/

Hiccup finds himself in a cell. Only minutes after awaking, there are approaching footsteps. Two men swing open his cell door, snatching him up.

The boy finds he can barely struggle. Did they give him some sort of weird dosage? He remembers having Gothi give him medicines for sleep and numbness, but this is different. He just feels… weak, boneless, emotionless.

Hiccup is forced into a room that intrigues him, despite his panic. There’s several containers with strange plants, liquids, and substances. There’s also bandages and casts in a corner, and he deduces this is some sort of medical.

He can hear people muttering, despite his blurry senses.

“Haddock—rider—frail—Night Fury,” he can make out one voice. “Boy—Berk—Stoick—riders.”

What are they talking about? His panic is doubling as he tries struggling some more, but cannot move an inch because of the guards holding him.

“Check—weak—dosage—“

A man steps into the room, dressed in loose, white clothing. He doesn’t bother speaking, only ambling towards Hiccup and inspecting him. The boy jerks desperately, still weak from whatever dosage they had given him.

The medic, he assumes, hums quietly. “Scrawny. I suppose the Handlers can do something about that…” The medic pokes and prods him in random spots, and Hiccup can barely make any noise in protest. “Dosage is probably too strong… hmm…”

After a few moments, in which Hiccup keeps slipping in and out of focus, the man strolls back to the entrance of the room.

“Boy—healthy, but very scrawny. Needs—training—Handlers. The dosage—strong—can fix that.”

He was able to start focusing more. He could make out the voices clearly, along with distinguishing the words. But what are they talking about?

“Is he ready to be prepped?”

“After the dosage wears off—“

A bulky man interrupts the doctor with, “The boss does not want to wait. He needs his weapon.”

The medic gulps. “O-Okay. He can be started on the program now.”

“Good.”

And the man turns his attention to Hiccup, with cold and hungry eyes.

/

Hiccup is moved to a new room, with tables of glinting tools and a chair with metal restraints. He can’t contain a nearly inaudible whimper, which one guard hears and chuckles.  
He is forced onto the chair. Now that the medication has worn off, Hiccup shoots up and tries escaping, but is hastily knocked back down. He wriggles as his captors quickly snap the metal restraints around his forearms and ankles.

“Feisty for such a little guy,” one of them snorts.

“You think he’ll live long enough for his first mission?” the second asks nonchalantly. Hiccup gulps at the worry of what they might do.

“Let’s hope so.”

Then, a team of unknown people enter the area. Three of them set to work on the chair Hiccup sat in, checking over strange contraptions attached to the chair. Meanwhile, another is ambling over to some sort of container, shadowed from the light of a torch.

“What first?” queries a small man in a nasally voice.

A man in the front steps forward, leaning over Hiccup. The boy courageously glares, hands clenching. The man hums for a moment. “He’ll be fun to break. With enough training and pushing, he’ll make a powerful weapon, especially with his knowledge of dragons.”

Hiccup fidgets in fear, fingertips beginning to tremble. He will not show his fear! He will not show his—

“Already scared,” a man inspecting the chair laughed. Dammit.

“Is The Chair ready?” the leader of the group asks.

“Yes,” another answers, backing away from The Chair. The group of people return to the front of the room, leaving Hiccup trapped in the device.

“What do you want from me?” Hiccup growls at last. He mentally pats his back for sounding so confident.

The men chortle. “Lots.”

The leader turns to a man who walked back over to the shadowed container in the corner.

“Begin.”

And Hiccup’s world exploded into pain.

 

/


	2. Chapter Two

/

The riders noticed Hiccup and Toothless hadn’t returned from their flight. It had been five hours, and nightfall has arrived.

Astrid paced the dragon training arena worriedly, while Snotlout huffed and turned to the twins. “Seriously, they probably just got lost. They’ll be back.”

“And what if they didn’t?” Fishlegs speaks up. “What if they got captured?”

“Well shouldn’t we wait until the morning to think that?” Tuffnut asks slowly. “I mean, it’s too dark to go looking for them.”

Astrid sighs. “You’re right. Let’s go to sleep and see if they’re back tomorrow.”

The riders and their dragons stroll out of the arena, leaving Astrid and Stormfly standing there in silence.

“Astrid?” Fishlegs asks. “Aren’t you heading to your house?”

The blonde-haired girl sighs. “I think I’ll stay here for the night.”

The other nods sadly. “Alright. Good night.”

Fishlegs and Meatlug leave, while Astrid slumps down next to Stormfly and curls into the dragon’s embrace.

Hiccup and Toothless are fine… right?

/

The following morning, the riders set off to find Hiccup and Toothless. They planned to go in pairs, scouting separate areas. If they stumbled across the duo, they would send a fiery signal into the sky.

Fishlegs joined with Astrid as they soared across the ocean and towards nearby islands. As they inspected the unfamiliar lands, they found no signs of Hiccup or Toothless.

Finally, the four scouters found someone.

Stormfly heard it first, the spikes framing her face perking up as she titled her head. Astrid quickly rubbed the Deadly Nadder’s neck.

“What is it, girl?” Astrid queried.

“Astrid, do you hear that?” Fishlegs asked. All four went silent, listening intently.

ROAAAAAR!

“A dragon roar,” Fishlegs murmured.

“Correction: a Night Fury roar,” Astrid amended, turning forward. “C’mon! They might be in trouble!”

The pair flew as swiftly as they could atop their dragons, approaching the island where the loud roar had erupted from.

Nothing looked suspicious. Only one knocked, battered tree caught their attention but it wasn’t any help.

ROAAAAAR!

The group soundlessly followed after the noise, searching for the source. While growing closer to a shadowed cave, with a barrier of boulders, all four of them paused.

The roaring went silent on the other side.

“Toothless?” Astrid called.

The creature shielded from them rumbled loudly, clawing at the boulders blocking his exit.

The two Vikings quickly slipped off their dragons, getting as many boulders away as possible. Meatlug picked a few up and tossed them to the side, while Stormfly mimicked her actions. Astrid and Fishlegs pushed the lighter ones away, until finally, Toothless was revealed.

“Toothless!” Fishlegs exclaimed happily.

The Night Fury warbled, purring as he rubbed against the two humans and the two dragons. After pulling away, though, he grumbled sadly.

“Where’s Hiccup?” Astrid asked. Toothless crooned sorrowfully, dipping his head.

“Oh Gods,” Fishlegs squealed. “What do we do? Did Outcasts or Berserkers take him?”

“Probably,” Astrid answered. “Let’s send a signal for the others and meet here.”

Toothless shot a powerful plasma blast into the sky, which erupted and created a loud boom and a wide ring of purple. Around the area, the signal could be noticed, which would alert the other riders.

Snotlout and his dragon landed after finding them in the clearing in front of the cave. The twins and their Hideous Zippleback plopped onto the ground, sliding off the saddles and ambling over to Astrid and Fishlegs.

“Uh, where is he?” Snotlout asked. “Toothless is here, but where’s Hiccup?”

“We don’t know,” Fishlegs replied shakily. “Toothless was stuck in this cave. What if someone captured Hiccup?”

“Why?” Tuffnut asked.

Ruffnut rolled her eyes. “Um, hellooo. He’s a dragon rider, he rides a Night Fury, he knows a lot about dragons, and he’s the son of a chief.”

“Oh… right.”

“Guys, focus,” Astrid huffed. “Who would have taken Hiccup? And where would they have gone?”

“I saw a net flying over,” Snotlout chipped in. When the others stared at him, he held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t think it was important ‘till now.”

Astrid sighed. “Whatever. We should check out the net and try finding some clues.”

“Good idea,” Fishlegs murmured. “Meatlug and I will look for stray arrows or weapons.”

“Ruff, Tuff, you guys can check out the cave,” Astrid continued. The twins smirked, and the blonde sighed to herself. Something chaotic was bound to happen. “Snotlout, you can go with the twins. And don’t cause a bunch of trouble.”

Snotlout just nodded with a smile, and Astrid knew it was stupid to try and stop him. With an exasperated sigh, she turned to Stormfly. “We’ll scout the ocean, and look for stray ships. We won’t go far.”

“Be careful,” Fishlegs called.

“I will.” Returning her attention to her companion, she grumbled, “Let’s just hope we can find Hiccup.”

/

Hiccup couldn’t contain his screams, even after someone had forced a bit into his mouth to bite on. He refused to cry, but the electric shocks invading his body, and most importantly his brain, were beyond agonizing. It was a pain like no other.

Suddenly, the buzzing stopped, and the shocks died down. Hiccup ached from the pain, head bowing tiredly.

A calloused hand forced his chin up. The leader of the group smirked, removed the bit, and spoke, “What is your name?”

Hiccup narrowed his eyes in confusion and curiosity. “Hiccup.”

“Who do you belong to?” the man tried again.

“No one,” the boy growled.

“What is your purpose?”

“To do whatever I want,” the dragon rider snapped.

The man hummed. “It’s fun breaking people, but I get the feeling you’ll be an annoying one.”

The demon in disguise stood straight again, nodding to someone behind The Chair, who was controlling the electric shocks. How was it even possible to do this? How were they getting the electricity to shock him?

The leader grasped onto the mouth guard again, forcing it into Hiccup’s mouth.

“Again.”

Hiccup’s heart plummeted with the single word, just before the buzzing continued and a new wave of agony rolled over him.

The screams grew louder.

/


	3. Chapter Three

/  
“I couldn’t find him anywhere,” Astrid announces with a defeated voice, landing back on the foreign island with Stormfly beneath her.

“We didn’t find anything either,” Ruffnut piped up, with Snotlout and Tuffnut flanking her.

“Meatlug and I found the net,” Fishlegs exclaimed, ambling over with a net crafted of a strange material. “I can’t recognize what it’s made out of. It’s some sort of thick thread, but I don’t know where it originates from.”

Astrid sighed. “Alright, I guess we should go back to Berk. Nothing else seems to be here.”

“Uh, how are we gonna get Toothless back to Berk?” Snotlout asked.

Everyone glanced over to Toothless, who crooned sadly. The Night Fury’s emerald eyes were clouded with sorrow and worry, all for his rider.

“I can control the tailfin,” Astrid finally answered. “I’ll fly with him.”

“Since when do you know how to do that?” Tuffnut asked.

Astrid just shrugged. They take off minutes later, heading back to their home island.

/

Stoick exhaled loudly, holding his head in his hands. His son was missing. How does a father cope with that? Where could Hiccup have vanished to? Who would have kidnapped him?

“Okay,” Gobber spoke, snapping Stoick from his reverie. “The net is the only thing you could find?”

“Yeah, not even footprints. I saw a few shallow dragon pawprints, but nothing that seemed recent,” Fishlegs explained, leaning over the table to get a closer look at the net.

Gobber hummed. “I think this is cottonmouth thread.”

Astrid cocked an eyebrow. “Cottonmouth?”

“Yee. Made from a special cotton plant that mainly grows on islands in the north or northwest. Lots of islands have these, though, so it doesn’t narrow the list very much,” the blacksmith elaborated.

Everyone seemed to frown in sync. “So now what?” Snotlout queried.

“I dunno,” Gobber admitted. “The Outcasts don’t have cottonmouth thread, and Berserkers don’t either. The last I can remember with cottonmouth thread would be Thunderhead island. The Thunderhead tribe lives there. Nice people, actually.”

The dragon riders all exchanged determined looks.

“Alright, when do we leave?” Fishlegs asked.

“Now.”

/

Hiccup was ready to pass out. He had no clue how long he’d been in The Chair, but he does know it’s been for too long.

“Switch it off,” came the leader’s intimidating voice.

The Chair shut down, the shocks coming to an end and Hiccup groaning weakly. The boy’s head fell limply without the headpiece around it. His head hurt, his eyes hurt (everything looks blurry and bright when he opens them), his muscles hurt from tensing, his everything hurts.

But the scariest part is that it hurts even worse when he thinks of life outside this place.

The leader’s hand shot forward, snatching the bit from Hiccup’s mouth. He carelessly tossed it onto the nearest desk, then asked, “What is your name?”

Hiccup had trouble forming words. “Hi—“ A bolt of pain through his brain and down his spine forced his remaining energy to form a yelp. “Hic—“ Another flash of pain.

The leader smirked. “It’s working. Who do you belong to?”

“No—“ He grunts. “—one.”

Hiccup pauses, eyes screwing closed tightly. It hurts so much… but what is wrong with him? Is he answering the questions wrong?  
His name is Hiccup. He belongs to no one. But why does pain strike him? People only get punished if they are wrong. Is he wrong?

“What is your purpose?”

“I…” No bolt of pain comes this time, because he cannot answer. What IS his purpose? What is he supposed to do here? Return to Berk—there’s the pain again! Hiccup muffles his moan of pain with his teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Continue,” the leader orders.

Hiccup’s eyes widen, and he uses the little amount of energy he has to fidget in protest.

“Ren, I don’t think—“

“Will it kill him?” the leader ‘Ren’ asks impatiently.

“…Probably not, but if we push him too hard, we’ll cause permanent damage that cannot help us or HYDRA.”

‘Ren’ glares in exasperation and disappointment at the medic he’s speaking to. Hiccup holds his breath, praying to Odin that Ren will agree.

“Fine.” Hiccup exhales in relief. “But we start again tomorrow. At dawn.”

“Yes, sir,” the medic murmurs. “He needs to be rested, though. We’ll need to sedate him.”

Ren turns his attention back to Hiccup, whose eyes are still half-lidded, despite his anxiety and fear. Cold, stony-gray eyes bore into the boy’s forest-green ones, and Hiccup feels like the man is looking into his very soul.

“Of course. Do it quickly, and introduce him to his new cell. I’ll tell the Commander about our success,” Ren speaks, standing from his seat beside The Chair and exiting the room.

Hiccup gulps, turning to where a new doctor approaches with a vial of a liquid no doubt being a sedative. The auburn-haired boy struggles fruitlessly, only to be yanked back down by another doctor while the first forced the disgusting liquid down his throat.

He tries keeping his eyes open, but they close eventually. He’s both relieved and worried.

/

They bring him in the next day. Hiccup awakes on the tacky fabric of The Chair, and instantly begins to escape from the devil’s machine. Of course, he’s outnumbered, and they force him back onto the device in seconds.

“Ready for day two?” Ren asks as he strolls into the room. He has a canteen of some drink in one hand, nonchalantly lifting it to down a few sips.

Hiccup can’t stop his glare. It still stings, only slightly, when thinking of escapes and Berk. Maybe the pain is wearing off?

“Prep him.”

The painfully tight binds latch onto him, imprisoning him in The Chair. The same man from yesterday switches the machine on, glancing over to meet Ren’s gaze.

When the man nods, the pain begins again.

“What is your name?” Ren asks ten minutes later. Hiccup is laying there almost lifelessly, eyes dull and sweat rolling down his forehead.

“Hi—“ He cries out at a frenzy of pain worse than yesterday. “Hic—“ He grunts. He is NOT giving up though. “Hicc…up…”

Ren smirks. “Impressive. What is your purpose?”

A moment of silence comes from the boy. What does he say? His purpose is his own—AH! More pain. His purpose is training dragons—AH!

Ren growls. “WHAT is your purpose?”

“I…” Hiccup clenches his hands into fists. “My… own—“ He groans from another surge of agony dancing up his spine and to the center of his mind, it seems.

Ren snorts. “Sure. Who do you belong to?”

“N—“ He can barely make the first syllable before whimpering.

Ren sighs in disappointment. “Nice try. Again.”

The buzzing starts up again.

/

“What is your name?” Ren queries in an impatient tone.

It’s the fourth day of this torture, and Hiccup hasn’t given in… not fully, at least.

“Hi—“ Silence. He has learned to stop after the pain strikes. He just needs to get the first hint out there, and Ren will know what he means.

“What is your purpose?”

Hiccup opens his mouth to say ‘my own’, but goes still. He can’t seem to form the words. His mind is beginning to form a civil war as he considers the options to say.

‘My purpose is mine, right? AH! But—but then again, Odin controls purposes, doesn’t he? Why can’t others control purposes? Maybe someone can control mine?  
NO! No, my purpose is MINE.’

The dragon rider shakes his head, and remains soundless to the question.

“Fine. Who do you belong to?”

“N..no…”

He can’t finish it, but Ren comprehends and exhales exasperatedly. “Take him out. Tomorrow we’ll take it up to my theory.”

/

The next day, Ren stays true to his word. He’s trying his own theory.

While Hiccup is in The Chair, experiencing agony beyond any other, Ren is shouting at him.

“Your name is not Hiccup!” Ren speaks loudly, over the buzz of The Chair. “Your purpose is to serve us! You belong to HYDRA!”

It continues for another five minutes. Ren repeats those three sentences over and over.

When Hiccup is given a break, he slumps down like every other time and tries regaining his breath. The doctors shuffle around him, taking notes as they do every other time they pause.

“What is your name?”

Hiccup opens his mouth to speak, but his mind is blank. He can’t think of the words to say. What was he going to say? What did he say last time? Is it the same question as last time? Ren smirks triumphantly. “Your name is Weapon X. You are the Asset.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows furrow. His name? Weapon X? That doesn’t sound right… doesn’t he already have a name? What was it...?

“You got that?” Ren demands. Hiccup stares at him in bewilderment. “Your name. What is your name?”

“My…” Hiccup blinks. His thoughts are, in a way, blurry. He can’t distinguish or remember anything... His name isn’t Weapon X, is it? “I-I’m not…” The boy’s jaw goes up and down as he tries to decide if his name is Weapon X or not. “My name isn’t…” He snaps out of it.

“My name is not Weapon X.”

A dark growl rises in the back of Ren’s throat. He shoots up from his seat, storming around The Chair. He shoves the bit back into Hiccup’s mouth, and heads behind The Chair. The settings are in plain sight, but Hiccup cannot see them. His fear skyrockets.

“Sir, I don’t think—“

There’s the sound of a lever being pulled, and Hiccup’s world is enveloped in pain once more.

What was the question again?

/

Day twenty.

Hiccup’s mind is empty and spacey now. He recalls some moments in his past, but they all get erased every time he gets a spot in The Chair.

The doctors ordered Ren to give him rest for at least fourteen hours per fifty minutes in The Chair. Ren listens… for the most part.

The Chair waits for him as Hiccup is escorted into the room. He doesn’t struggle. Why should he? They are would win anyway. And whatever, they’re helping him with his mind, right? They’re… fixing him.

The same routine repeats itself. He makes it in three minutes, and Ren begins shouting about what his name is, his purpose, and who he belongs to.

They turn The Chair off twenty minutes later.

“What is your name?”

The boy is silent for a moment. He does not know what to say. Part of him disagrees, but the other part welcomes the name Weapon X with open arms.

When he searches for anything in his mind, he realizes there is nothing. He has no proof he has any other name.

“Weapon X.”

/

Day thirty-one arrives.  
The time has come.

/

Hungry gray eyes meet dull forest-green. Sadistic smirk meets blank face. Excitement can be felt in one person, and emptiness in the other.

“What is your name?”

“Weapon X.”

“What is your purpose?”

“Serve.”

“Who do you belong to?”

A pause. A flash of a black creature with green eyes passes across the boy’s mind, along with a blonde girl and a few other people.

He does not recognize them, so they mean nothing.

“I belong to HYDRA.”

/


	4. Chapter Four

/

A small scratching noise came from a table in the Great Hall, with the Dragon Riders and dragons, along with Stoick and Gobber, gathered around.

Fishlegs crossed off another island from the list, sighing sadly.

The list consisted of as many tribes and islands they could think of from the northern area. There were a total of twenty-one, including multiple tribes on one island. They had just finished visiting the Jarhead tribe, disappointed yet again when they failed to find Hiccup.

There were only nine tribes remaining. From the way Stoick and Gobber spoke, most of them were kind people.

Toothless warbled sadly as he peeked at the list. The Night Fury rested his chin on the table with a little huff, emerald eyes clouded with a strong mix of concern and disappointment.

“We’ll find him, Toothless,” Astrid murmured, rubbing the top of his head comfortingly. Turning back to the group, she asked, “What’s next?”

“The Neck Wranglers,” Stoick answered, pointing a meaty finger at the next tribe. “I’ve talked to their tribe leader a few years ago, but he might be dead now. I can’t remember my opinion on them.”

“Let’s go, then,” Ruffnut spoke up, turning to Barf and Belch.

“Hold up,” Gobber exclaimed. “I was thinkin’, if I wanna help more, I should get a dragon.”

The group, minus Stoick, blinked owlishly. “Um… okay,” Snotlout blurted dumbly.

Astrid rolled her eyes, then declared, “New plan. Chief, you help Gobber bond with a dragon. It can’t just be one for finding Hiccup. It has to be a dragon Gobber would get along with.”

“Aye,” Stoick agreed.

“The rest of us will go ahead and find the Neck Wranglers.” When Toothless groaned in protest, Astrid turned and scratched the side of his head reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Toothless. Go with Stoick.”

Stoick had been flying on Toothless, since Astrid needed to fly on Stormfly, and Stoick had already learned to control the tailfin.

Toothless crooned in disappointment, then turned and ambled over to the Chief. The others turned and exited the Great Hall.

“Alright, hopefully this is the one,” Astrid muttered to herself, climbing aboard Stormfly.

The Dragon Riders shot into the air, the sound of wing flaps surrounding them as they took off to the next tribe.

/

After checking the Neck Wranglers and Mud Monster tribe, they still had nothing.

The Dragon Riders returned to Berk, where Stoick, Gobber, and Toothless were waiting.

They headed to the arena first, to give their dragons a rest. When entering, though, they were all stunned to see Gobber cooing at an unfamiliar dragon.

It was a dragon that strongly resembled a Gronckle, though with a flatter head and softer features. It had slightly longer wings, a body that was more condensed than round, and with warm amber eyes. A Hotburple.

“Nothing?” Stoick queried sadly, already knowing the answer.

“Nothing,” Fishlegs confirmed, sliding off Meatlug and approaching Gobber’s new dragon. “Cool! A Hotburple. Never studied one in real life…”

“Aye. His name is Grump,” Gobber announced, patting his new dragon with his flesh hand. “Quite a good fellow.”

“Indeed,” Stoick agreed. “When running into him, he took to Gobber instantly. When a Terrible Terror wouldn’t stop chewin’ on Gobber’s arm, Grump had scared him off.”

“Awesome,” Fishlegs mumbled, flipping his sketchbook open and beginning to take notes.

“We visited the Mud Monster tribe as well,” Astrid explained as she strolled over to Stoick. “Still nothing.”

Toothless padded over, rumbling sorrowfully. When Stormfly nudged him to cheer him up, he hummed and plopped onto the floor of the arena, curling his tail around his eyes.

“Well now what?” Snotlout queried, joining the group. “We gotta find Hiccup somehow!”

Even Snotlout was worried. The whole group was worried, actually. Tuffnut was stressed, Ruffnut would join in on searches and strategies whenever she could, Fishlegs would study his notes, and Snotlout would whine and demand what they would do next.

Astrid sighed. “I don’t know. We can finish searching the rest of the list, but…” A strong silence met her trailed off words. The “we might not find him” was obviously implied, and no one was willing to accept it.

“We’ll continue in the morning,” Stoick finally spoke. “I think the Hunting Hoodlums are next.”

“Alright,” Astrid murmured. She turned back to Stormfly, who crowed to Toothless. The Night Fury rumbled back, still hiding behind his tailfins. When he peeked his head out, the Deadly Nadder squawked and rubbed a cheek against his.

Astrid smiled sadly at the sight. At least they still have each other.

/

Hiccup—no, that’s not his name.

Weapon X ambled down the corridors of HYDRA’s base, with two guards flanking him. Ren stood in front, leading the way to the Commander’s quarters. Weapon X hasn’t met him yet.  
Eventually they halted at a steel door. The doorway was decorated with strange signs and letter-like symbols. Perhaps a foreign language?

Ren knocked harshly, then tapped with his foot at the bottom. Weapon X tilted his head. Maybe a code entrance?

The door swung open with a near-inaudible croak. When entering the room, Weapon X is intrigued. It is lit up with several torches, with two plaques of dragon skulls. Wait—those are dragons, right? What are dragons?

In the center sat a man in a chair, scribbling away on parchment with a charcoal stick. His hair is a greasy black, with a sickly tan skin shade and a good amount of muscle on him. He’s dressed in a black attire, with silver belts, latches, and shoulder pads.

“Commander Fenrir,” Ren greeted respectfully, dipping his head. Behind Weapon X, the other two bowed their heads in respect, then raised them again.

Weapon X focuses on the Commander in front of him. The man, Fenrir, stood slowly, walking around his desk with a strangely elegant gate. He halts in front of Ren, eyes flicking between Ren and Weapon X behind him.

“Hello, Ren,” Fenrir responded at last. His voice is frighteningly calm, with a strange warm-cold mix in it. It sounds double-sided, like it could be taken one way but also another way. “Is this the new Asset?”

“Yes,” Ren answered, turning sideways to meet Weapon X’s gaze. “He has been wiped and named. He is Weapon X.”  
Fenrir hums. “He’s… small.”

“Yes,” Ren agrees. “But you will be surprised by who he is. He is the rider of the Night Fury.”

Weapon X’s eyebrows furrow. Night Fury? Rider? What is that? He doesn’t ride anything… right?

Fenrir’s strange amber-brown eyes widen slightly. “Is he now? Are you positive the other Dragon Riders will not come for him?”

Dragon Riders? Do they think he’s a Dragon Rider? No… no, he’s not—

“No. If they shall, they will easily be eliminated,” Ren responds coolly. “As for Weapon X’s size, he will gain muscle and power with proper training and diet.”

A slow nod comes from Fenrir. “Yes. He will begin tomorrow. For now, put him on our best nutritional meals.”

“Of course, sir,” Ren murmurs, bowing his head one last time.

They leave Fenrir’s quarters, guiding Weapon X towards the cafeteria.

Weapon X wonders who the Night Fury rider is.

/

The following week, HYDRA trainers worked with him. He was ordered to begin his exercise on strength and stamina. They began lightly and until it continued mercilessly. Weapon X’s muscles were beyond burning after one day.

“I’m tired,” he had moaned one day. The HYDRA woman in front of him rolled her eyes.

“And I’m tired of your shitty work. Get back to it, Asset!”

Weapon X ambled back over to the weights on unsteady legs, continuing the workout. When he failed to comply, he was struck in the face until he obeyed.

‘It’s okay,’ he told himself. ‘They’re just fixing me. I need to be the perfect Asset.’

Today, they attempted something new. Weapon X had never been so relieved… wait, has he felt relief before?

Ren plopped a thick book upon the table in front of him. The boy blinked, cautiously opening the book after Ren’s confirming nod.

Across the first page read: “The Book of Dragons”

Weapon X tensed immediately. A picture of fire and a Deadly Nadder crossed his vision. Wait… what’s a Deadly Nadder? How does he know that?

“What’s a Deadly Nadder?” the Asset asks quietly.

Ren inhales sharply. The book hadn’t even reached the second page, and Weapon X was already remembering things.

With a small groan, the man turned to a worker beside him. “Take him to The Chair.”

Weapon X’s eyes widen. “But I—“

“Weapon X!” Ren barks. “You obey HYDRA.”

“I…” He swallows. He’ll be in more trouble if he continues arguing.

Silently, he follows the HYDRA worker, who escorts him to The Chair. Ren follows, appearing exasperated and annoyed.

When Weapon X is strapped in, Ren sits beside him.

The Chair switches on. He screams.

And when The Chair shuts off, he doesn’t remember the words that took him there.

/

Sixty-two days.

Stoick stared into the fire in his house blankly, eyes unseeing.

His son has been missing for sixty-two days. The group had finished the list of tribes, and even another three of them. And they found nothing.

How does someone cope with a loved one vanishing? How does a FATHER cope with that? Over his son?

A soft warble comes to Stoick’s left. The Viking snaps out of his daze, and turns to the source of the noise. Toothless stands there, ear-fins drooped and eyes pitiful. The Night Fury rubs against the Chief’s arm, hoping to comfort him.

Stoick absentmindedly wraps an arm around the dragon’s neck, embracing him in a side hug.

“How do we carry on, Toothless?” Stoick whispers. “Where is my son?”

Not even Toothless answers him.

/

The twins sat silently, leaning against the stone wall of the dragon arena. Both were looking sorrowful and almost lifeless.

“I wish we could find him,” Tuffnut suddenly speaks up.

“Yeah,” Ruffnut sighs. “I never realized how important Hiccup is. And how much he means to us.”

“Me neither,” the other twin mumbles. “What do we do now?”

Ruffnut gazes ahead at the opposite stone wall, the dark sky blanketing them through the chained ceiling.

“I don’t know.”

/

Fishlegs sketches across his parchment silently, his charcoal stick darting swiftly. His eyes are narrowed, his grasp is tight, and his jaw is clenched.  
His drawing is messy, with several erased parts and random scribbles.

When the tip of his charcoal stick snaps, Fishlegs near-screams.

He’s so frustrated. He’s tried everything, just like the others. He’s studied everything on each tribe he knows of, he has checked over the island Toothless was found at, and he has checked several maps, creating possible routes where Hiccup could have been taken.

Now, the boy sits there, breathing heavily in frustration, nostrils flared. He has been tame and calm for so long, and now…

Fishlegs glares down at his sketch. It’s supposed to be of Hiccup, but… there are so many mistakes. Fishlegs has begun losing the image of Hiccup’s face.

Hiccup isn’t just vanishing physically. He’s also vanishing mentally.

/

Snotlout flies on Hookfang quietly, resting both elbows against the dragon’s horns. His eyes stare ahead aimlessly as they glide. He doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Hookfang growls in question beneath his rider. The dragon knows why Snotlout is upset, but he doesn’t know what to do about it, since they can’t find Hiccup.

Snotlout suddenly clenches his fists and leans back. The boy screams as angrily as he can, punching the air and then leaning back on Hookfang’s neck and shoulders.

Hookfang rumbles sadly, startled but also sympathetic.

“Hiccup is out there,” Snotlout finally speaks, sitting back up. “He’s out there and I know he needs help.”

A pause.

“I just don’t know how we can give it to him.”

/

Toothless is soundless as the night drifts by. He is situated on his rock bed, which had dark scorch marks. The dragon continued opening and closing his eyes, trying to fall asleep. He shifted around several times, tail curling in random ways, wings tucking in spontaneously, and body curving weirdly.

At last, the Night Fury gives up. He stands and pads over to the window, meeting the moon’s gaze. He exhales slowly.

His rider is out there. His rider is probably not alone, but definitely feeling alone. What can he do, though? Toothless needs to save him! But how? How can you save what cannot be found?

Toothless turns back to Hiccup’s bedroom. A trail of moonlight reaches Hiccup’s bed, and it’s then Toothless can get the faintest, FAINTEST smell of his rider from the bed.

The dragon ambles over and collapses on the bed, careful not to destroy it. He curls up on the soft, dusty sheets with a content purr. For now, he’s satisfied. But he will be horrified when he wakes up and accepts this is not a nightmare, just like he had done for the last sixty-two days.

/

Astrid sits there, on the overhanging cliff. She has her knees drawn towards her, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her blond bangs ruffle slightly in the breeze, and also a few stray hairs poking from her braid.

Beside her perches Stormfly, who looks just as depressed as everyone else. The Deadly Nadder crowed, lying down and simply staring at the midnight sky with amber eyes.

Astrid’s eyes lift to the moon, which is full and glowing beautifully. Is Hiccup looking at the moon too?

The teenager shuts her eyes for a moment. She can already feel the familiar sting in her eyes, which signals the tears are coming. She can’t hold them back, no matter how confident and determined she acts around the others.

So she finally lets it go, and sobs freely. Stormfly whines, getting up and wrapping her tail around her human. Astrid continues weeping uncontrollably, but turns and leans against her dragon.

It takes a long time for her to calm down. Her breathing is uneven and hitched. She almost feels like she’s hyperventilating. Her heart is beating quicker than normal, adding to her distress.

“I miss him,” Astrid croaks weakly, eyes finally beginning to dry. “I miss him so much.”

The girl pulls away to gaze up at the moon again, a frown on her face. She recalls all her times with Hiccup. The fun they had, the laughs they shared, the adventure they experienced… She wishes it was still here.

“Does he miss me?”

/


	5. Chapter Five

/

Hiccup had been at HYDRA for twenty days.   
Weapon X has been at HYDRA for one-hundred days.   
Four months have passed since Hiccup’s disappearance and since he arrived here.

Weapon X trains determinedly these days. His nutritional meals have boosted his growth as a fifteen-year-old, and the training builds his strength and size. The HYDRA coaches have worked on hand-to-hand combat, but not weaponry combat. They also have not started on running or track exercises. His training seems to revolve around building size and strength.

Weapon X has only gone back to The Chair four times in the last two and a half months. Two were for saying random, strangely familiar things while reading the Book of Dragons, while the other two were for asking about a black creature he sometimes sees in his mind.

The boy is on the perfect path for a HYDRA weapon.

/

Ren and Commander Fenrir talked vehemently outside of the training gymnasium. The training room is full of punching bags, parkour tracks and obstacles, weapons, targets, and weights; everything Weapon X needs to become the perfect weapon.

Weapon X can’t distinguish the two men’s words, but he knows they are talking in strong, steely voices.

One of his trainers, whom he calls Barry, orders him back up. Weapon X has been resting on the bench for a full three minutes, and although it’s not much, it’s enough for him to keep working.  
Barry directed him towards one of the punching bags, silently gesturing a hand towards it. The boy understood and took the hand wraps from his trainer. He quickly curled the fabric around his hand and knuckles, then returned his attention to the punching bag.

Weapon X attacked it slowly at first, until building up the power of his hits. Eventually he was striking the punching bag at a surprising speed, with a surprising strength for someone of his size. He’s obviously not as small as he was four months ago, but he’s not as muscular as any of the other HYDRA members.

The familiar squealing noise of the door rang out. Weapon X knows it’s the door on the far left, which leads to a corridor with several cells and private storages. The fifteen-year-old has learned HYDRA’s building quite well.

He does not pause in his attacks against the punching bag. Even though his knuckles are near the point of bleeding, and will bruise later, he does not quit. He cannot, because he has not been given permission. He must obey.

A few words are tossed to Barry, which Weapon X can only partially hear over his hitched and heavy breathing, with a pounding heart and roaring in his ears. He’s worn out from his training for today, which is understandable, because he has been training for the past three and a half hours, with small breaks throughout the timespan.

Barry calls for him to stop, so the boy immediately does so. He lets his aching arms fall to his sides, trying to hide his heavy breathing. He follows after Barry, who orders him to unwrap his hands. By the time Weapon X finishes, Barry is conversing with the people that entered the training gymnasium.

The auburn-haired teenager glanced over to see Ren and Commander Fenrir standing beside the nearest wall, with Barry ambling over to chat with them.

After a few whispered words, Ren is turning to acknowledge Weapon X.

“Weapon X!” Ren calls. The weapon-in-training perks up, quickly approaching the three men. Fenrir is smirking as Weapon X walks over. Barry is appearing excited, and Ren seems to be pleased.

“Commander Fenrir,” Weapon X murmurs, dipping his head respectfully.

“Weapon X, how would you feel about proving your worth to HYDRA?” Fenrir asks, ignoring the greetings.

Weapon X paused. “I would be honored.” The words feel wrong for some reason. Why?

“Good,” Fenrir responds with a grin. The boy is slightly unnerved, and he realizes he has begun feeling more emotion recently. “Weapon X, you are aware you serve for HYDRA?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well we need you to serve something for us. We need you to eliminate a threat to HYDRA.”

The words gave Weapon X a tiny tremor throughout his body. Fortunately, none of the men noticed it.

“Kill?” Weapon X queries quietly.

“Yes. Do you accept?” Fenrir answers, and the boy knows the question is almost rhetorical. Weapon X doesn’t have a choice.

“I…”

Taking notice of the teenager’s hesitance, Fenrir’s face darkened. “Weapon X, HYDRA has done you well. You belong to us. We feed you, strengthen you, provide for you. You must return the favor.”

Weapon X swallows. Can he really kill someone? No one ever told him about this!

“It’s a yes or no answer,” Fenrir snapped impatiently. “Yes or no?”

The word comes out instinctively, for his own survival, as he blurts, “Yes.”

Ren looks proud, Barry appears pleased, and Fenrir looks satisfied. “Good choice. You will eliminate this threat in two weeks. You will be provided with the proper weaponry. Until then, train with blades and a bow well.”

Weapon X nods. “Understood, sir.”

“Is it, though?” Fenrir abruptly growls. “You must not fail us, Weapon X. You might have two weeks, but it will fly by. You WILL kill for us.”

Weapon X’s eyes narrow, recalling the training he had been put through.

“Yes, I will.”

/

The bow and arrow seems to be the greatest weapon for him. He has talented accuracy, and has gained strength during his harsh training. His archery trainer, Tregg, is impatient and snappy like most other HYDRA workers. However, Weapon X pays no mind. Tregg is helping him, right?

A week and a half passes. He has approximately five more days until his first kill. The word “kill” sends a bolt of dread and anxiety through him, but he knows if he refuses, the punishment will be severe. More time in The Chair, harder training, smaller rest times, and less meals.

Weapon X practiced with short blades as well. His accuracy isn’t great in a quick duel, which is why archery is the best option. Plus, it will make his kill silent and unnoticeable, until someone stumbles across the… body.

“Body” is another word that scares him—wait, no. Weapon X does not feel fear. He cannot. Fear will destroy him, destroy his confidence, his training, his Handlers… HYDRA will not forgive him for a long time, if at all.

Now, the Asset inspected the clothes hung along his cell wall.

“This is your mission attire,” Fenrir explained shortly. “Stain it red all you want; just don’t get caught until HYDRA allows it.”

Weapon X barely hides his flinch at the words.

As he inspects the outfit, the teenager notices every article is black or darkly colored. Obviously they want him to be stealthy, just like his bow and arrow.

A hood is linked to the shirt, all black. The shirt is tight but appears flexible, with hidden pockets, no doubt for weapons. The sleeves end at the wrists, but there are a pair leathery gloves connected. The gloves intrigue him, because there are sharp, black, talon-like claws overhanging the fingerless edges. There is also some sort of silver metal on the knuckles, which Weapon X assumes is to strengthen his punches.

The trousers are tight and midnight black, matching the rest of the outfit. There are loops on the waistband, but other than that, nothing important to muse about.

The second-to-last article is a pair of combat boots, with short laces that he wouldn’t trip over. When lifting them up, Weapon X could see the bottom had unique ridges to walk over certain terrains.

Lastly, the mask. It both worries (scares) and intrigues him.

It’s black, muzzle-like. It travels halfway up his nose, almost to the bridge. It ties around the back of his neck, with a secure clasp. There are also a pair of dark-lensed goggles, which would conceal his forest-green eyes.

The outfit (scares) intrigues him. He doesn’t know what to say.

He simply nods to Fenrir, who narrows his eyes for a moment, and then silently ambles out of the cell.

Weapon X frowns, asking himself: can I really kill someone?

/

Weapon X found himself crouching in the shadows, watching intently at the village ahead of him. Bustling Vikings wandered here and there, enjoying their time in the evening. The sun was steadily lowering from the sky, and as it did Weapon X found himself growing more and more anxious. The sooner night arrived, the sooner he would kill and then return back to base.

Behind him were two HYDRA guards, there to spectate the scene. Weapon X got the faint feeling they were also making sure that he didn’t flee, although he wasn’t sure why. Where else would he go but to the base?

Finally, the sun was gone and night arrived. A few villagers bid each other goodnight, and then returned home. Weapon X’s focus was drawn to one man in particular, though. His target.

The target was a large, bulky man. He had tangled black hair that was mostly concealed by a horned helmet but his beard was surprisingly large. He was dressed in regular Viking attire, from what Weapon X had gathered from the other bystanders. The target had no armor to defend himself from a stealthy blow.

“Weapon X, it is time,” one of the HYDRA guards whispered.

Weapon X inhaled sharply, realizing that it was, in fact, time to kill. And he needed to do it quickly, before anyone else got in the way or before the target returned home, shielded by the walls of his house.

Weapon X straightened his crouch, gaining a better form to help his accuracy and power with his bow. The arrow he used was sharp and hazardous, sure to kill someone with one blow if the person’s outfit was not thick. But he also had more arrows, just to be safe, along with a dagger.

The auburn-haired boy – man? – shakily put an arrow in place, and then drew the drawstring back. He breathed in unsteadily as his dull green eyes, concealed by the goggles, locked onto the target. The man was near. Near enough to get a perfect shot, if Weapon X did not screw up.

Weapon X thought to himself: it’s his life or mine.

And he released the arrow.

The arrow zoomed through the air, launching itself right into the man’s chest. The raven-haired Viking gasped and sputtered sporadically, unable to shout or scream for help.

When he did not go down or die quick enough, Weapon X shot him with a second arrow, right below the first.

Blood pooled from the two wounds, staining the target’s clothes and the skin underneath. He collapsed to the ground, a hand clutching at his chest desperately.

Weapon X watched, grateful his eyes and the majority of his face were concealed. If they weren’t, it would be obvious he was horrified and shocked.

His first kill had gone smoothly, and he was too shocked to feel anything other than disgust and horror.

The two HYDRA guards exchanged smirks. One of them tugged the masked boy backwards, guiding him away from the scene. Then they returned to their ship, sailing back to the base.

/

When Weapon X returned to the base, Ren and Commander Fenrir were already expecting him. The moment they spotted the pleased looks on the HYDRA guards’ faces, they knew it had gone well.

“Well done, Weapon X,” Commander Fenrir murmured. Turning to the two agents, he asked, “How long did it take? Any mistakes?”

“None at all, sir,” one answered. “The Weapon killed the target with two arrows. No one was at the scene, and the target made no noise.”

“Good, very good,” Fenrir hummed. Turning back to Weapon X, he spoke, “You’ve done well, Weapon X. In reward there will be no training for tomorrow.” Weapon X nodded gratefully, showing no other signs of acknowledgement. Fenrir focused onto Ren, ordering, “Escort him to the cafeteria. He needs one more meal with better nutrients.”

Ren nodded obediently, and led the way to the cafeteria. Weapon X followed numbly, feeling guilty that he felt proud and relieved after murdering someone.

/


	6. Chapter Six

/

Two weeks passed. Weapon X’s training began shifting into agility and stamina. He continued working with the bow and arrow, and also with daggers and swords. He hadn’t visited The Chair for a relieving amount of time as well, and Weapon X hoped it stayed that way.

One day, though, Ren had called him to Commander Fenrir’s office. Weapon X reluctantly headed there, wondering if he was in trouble. Were they going to send him to kill someone again?

But when he reached the Commander’s office, he was pleased to see Fenrir was seated behind his desk calmly, no papers, objects, or weapons in sight, except for a thick book.

Ren seated himself in front of the desk, and Weapon X stood awkwardly. It was only when Fenrir motioned to the other chair that the boy sat.

“Greetings, Weapon X,” Fenrir rumbled. “I’ve heard great things about your training. Today we will be working on something else.” The man flipped the large book open, turning to the first page. It was a sketch of two figures, one human and the other… dragon, maybe?

“Weapon X, there is a creature out there darker and crueler than no other,” Fenrir explained. “Dragons. They are bloodthirsty and relentless, and they continue destroying mankind. Right now we will go over dragon information.”

Weapon X nodded.

“Good. Now, you may have heard others talking about dragons, and you might have unintentionally gathered some facts about them. Is there anything that comes to mind?” Fenrir queried.

Weapon X felt strange when a thought crossed his mind that perhaps Fenrir was lying and Weapon X learned the facts of dragons on his own. It wasn’t possible, right?

After a moment, a random picture came to the front of his mind. It was of a blue and yellow creature, most likely a dragon, with a spiked head and tail. It had two long legs, no front legs, and a horned nose.

“There’s a spiky dragon,” Weapon X spoke, trying to search for the facts he knew of it. The ones he overheard from others, right? “It has two legs and spikes all over. A horn on its nose.” Fenrir quickly opened the book up to a specific page, with a sketch looking uncannily similar to the dragon in his mind.

“This one?” the Commander asked.

“Yes,” Weapon X responded. “It has a blind spot, in front of its nose.” Was that right? Or maybe he was imagining stuff… “And it shoots spikes from its tail… but when it does, it leaves its belly exposed.”

Ren stifled a smirk as he discreetly scribbled down what Weapon X spoke onto a piece of parchment.

“Yes, true,” Fenrir agreed. “Have you heard of a Monstrous Nightmare?” The name sent a weird feeling through his brain, like a small spark of familiarity, but then it was gone.

“I’m… not sure what that is,” Weapon X admitted.

The Commander switched to another page, this time with a sketch of a large dragon with a long neck, long tail, and four horns from its head. It had a crocodile-like mouth, and it had two legs, with two wings that had hooked claws that it most likely used to walk on.

“Oh,” Weapon X muttered. “It—I think it likes its horns being pinned to the ground.”

Fenrir’s eyebrows rose. When Weapon X thought over his words, he realized it probably sounded strange.

“Very well then.” The man turned to another dragon, this time a bulky one with a rock-like body separated into three parts. It had four legs and the sketch showed it chomping on rocks, with its eyes narrowed intimidatingly and fangs bared cruelly. “What about this one? A Gronckle.”

“They… they don’t like certain rocks. It’ll make them sick,” Weapon X mused. It was all he could think of.

“And this one? A Hideous Zippleback?” Fenrir asked, almost looking hungry.

The page he showed had an image of a two-headed dragon with two separated tails and four legs. It had one pair of wings, much shorter than the rest of its body but no doubt enough to provide flight.

“They crash if you move too quickly,” Weapon X got out no problem. “Their heads will collide or get tangled together.”

Fenrir nodded. “Well done, Weapon X.” The man moved his focus onto Ren, who subtly slipped the parchment onto Fenrir’s desk. “Return Weapon X to his sleeping quarters. Tomorrow he should train with strength.”

“Of course, Commander,” Ren obliged. He escorted Weapon X out of the room, and towards his cell—or was it just a room?

Weapon X frowned as he lied on the small mattress. He felt proud he knew so much about the dragons, just from overhearing people talking, but he felt strange when thinking of them. How could he visualize the spiky one so easily, and without a picture first?

Weapon X sighed, then turned over to face the barren wall. Maybe if he slept things would make more sense tomorrow.

/

The group of Dragon Riders were crowded around a table, where their list of islands was placed. Astrid bit her lip as she leaned forward, crossing out the last tribe.

They had checked all the tribes, and there was no sign of Hiccup.

Toothless moaned sadly, dropping his head onto the table. Stoick sighed, rubbing at his eyes, while Gobber remained silent and still. Snotlout exchanged looks with the twins, all three of them looking disappointed and sorrowful. Fishlegs displayed the same expression, and was petting Meatlug for comfort.

Meanwhile, Astrid stared down at the list, her eyes beginning to sting. The charcoal stick in her grasp was snapped in half by her thumb, catching the attention of the others.

“I’m going for a flight,” Astrid informed them, her voice wavering. No one protested, because they understood completely.

Astrid climbed aboard Stormfly, then rose into the sky. The wind did nothing to help her watery eyes, and within moments she was sobbing again. Stormfly landed on a nearby sea stack, and then cuddled against her rider in hopes of comforting her.

Five months, and Hiccup was still gone. They had no more evidence, and nothing else to go off of. What if he was already dead?

Astrid exhaled loudly, finally calming herself. She patted Stormfly’s cheek, muttering, “Thanks, girl.” She didn’t dare say ‘I’m okay’, because it was far from true.

“Where else could he be?!” Astrid abruptly growled, getting to her feet. Stormfly perked up at the sudden display of frustration and anger, watching intently as the blonde-haired girl paced. “We’ve looked everywhere! Every island, sea stack, rock, grass blade—UGH!”

Astrid collapsed to the ground, punching the rocky ground over and over. Stormfly squawked when she noticed blood trickling from the teenager’s knuckles, and quickly snatched the girl up by the collar of her shirt, pulling her away from the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Astrid gasped out through another wave of sobs. “What am I supposed to do?! Hiccup is gone, and there’s no other way to help him! We’ve looked EVERYWHERE!” She paused. “He wouldn’t leave intentionally, right? No… no he wouldn’t! Especially not without Toothless!”

Astrid sighed, rubbing a hand against her face. She was so distressed she could barely think straight. How could her whole world fall apart because of a boy she used to see as nothing more than a talking fishbone. But he was so much more than that. He was Hiccup, and she loves him.

Love. She LOVES him!

Astrid stiffened when she realized the truth. She was perfectly aware she had a crush on the boy, but to love him…  
The revelation only made her sadder. If she ever found Hiccup again, she would never let him go. She would hold him, cry against him, probably slap him, and confess that she loves him. Not in any specific order, though.

Astrid gave a shuddery exhale. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup,” she whispered. “I wish I could be with you right now.”

/

Weapon X was seated in Fenrir’s office again. They were going over the dragons and their weaknesses, just like they had done the day before.

“And now, Weapon X, is the Night Fury,” Fenrir abruptly announced. He displayed a page with a picture of a black creature with long, bat-like wings and a frilled head. It had vicious teeth and narrowed eyes, with a second pair of wings behind its first pair. Two wings were at the end of its tail, but Weapon X felt like something was wrong.

Should one of the tailwings be colored red?

“Toothless,” Weapon X blurted before he could even think to stop himself.

Fenrir tensed. “What?”

Weapon X hesitated. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s nothing.”

“No, Weapon X,” Fenrir spoke, voice calm but frightening. “You said something, so say it again.”

The boy shifted and then reluctantly answered, “Toothless.”

Beside him, Ren growled quietly. While Weapon X wasn’t looking, Ren mouthed ‘Night Fury’s name’ to Fenrir.

Fenrir’s hands clenched, his eyes narrowed, and his teeth began grinding together. “Weapon X, do you know of this creature?” 

Weapon X was scared to answer, but knew if he didn’t then he would most likely be punished. “It… it’s supposed to have a red and white tailwing. And its eyes are bigger and green, and—”  
Fenrir’s icy glare sent him into silence. “Weapon X, I believe you have overheard too much from our HYDRA workers.”

Weapon X frowned. “I’m sorry, Commander.”

“No apologies are necessary,” the man murmured coolly. For a moment Weapon X thought he was safe, until the Commander added, “But you will be taking a trip to The Chair.”

Weapon X’s breath hitched. The—The Chair? Why? What did he do wrong? Was it because he knew too much? But how?

“Commander Fenrir—”

“Do NOT talk back to me, Weapon X,” Fenrir snarled, very uncharacteristic to his normally cool and collected persona. “Ren, take him away. Wipe him.”

“Yes, sir.” Ren snatched the boy up, then led him to the room containing The Chair.

The auburn-haired teenager felt his breath hitch as he stared at hell in the form of a chair.

“Wipe him,” Ren ordered shortly to the medics nearby.

They set to work, and soon Weapon X was locked into The Chair.

“Go.”

And his world erupted into pain again.

When he looked at the sketch of the Night Fury the next day, he saw nothing but a monstrous beast.

/

Month six came and went.  
Month seven.  
Month ten.  
One year.

The days ticked by, living an empty hole in not just the riders and the dragons, but also Berk.

As time passed, the riders adjusted to life without Hiccup. Sometimes they would talk and then pause, expecting a comment from someone that wasn’t there. Without Hiccup they didn’t have the same bond or leadership.

Toothless was given a new tailfin after month six. Gobber stumbled across Hiccup’s old plans about a tailfin Toothless could control himself. Apparently he had already made it, but destroyed it after Toothless refused to wear it.

Gobber copied the sketches and measurements, managing to craft the tailfin. Toothless whined pitifully when the tailfin was placed on him, no doubt because he was wishing Hiccup was there.

The new tailfin worked fine, but it didn’t provide as much speed as the one Hiccup used before he went missing. Yes, Toothless would maneuver easily and quickly because he could control the tailfin on his own, but the fabric and metal wasn’t as great with helping him fly faster.

While the time passed, Stoick found himself yearning for a coping method. It was only when a powerful dragon caught his attention did he find it.

Stoick became the rider of a Rumblehorn dragon, who was named Skullcrusher. He often headed to the Dragon Academy to get tips, which drastically improved his progress with not only his flying but his friendship with Skullcrusher.

Even though they didn’t have Hiccup anymore, the Dragon Riders continued growing closer. They helped their fellow tribe members make peace with dragons and help some ride dragons. Despite the ups and downs they faced, their teamwork had strengthened.

One day, though, they received frightening news.

Trader Johann sailed towards Berk, and once he made it, he had demanded a meeting with Stoick and the Dragon Riders.

/


	7. Chapter Seven

/

 

“What is it, Johann?” Stoick asked once they reached his house.

 

“By Thor, you would never believe the chaos on other islands,” Johann sighed.

 

“What happened?” Astrid queried worriedly.

 

Johann frowned. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by Snotlout.

 

“Johann, you better just get straight to the point,” Snotlout growled.

 

The tradesman huffed. “Alright.” He paused, fidgeting slightly. “There’s been several reports of murder going around the archipelago.”

 

Everyone froze, breath hitching. Stoick blinked, then narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. The Dragon Riders exchanged glances, expressing their concern and confusion.

 

“What kind of murders?” Stoick demanded.

 

“Silent murders. Usually by arrows,” Johann explained. “They’re linked with the weapons used, all being the same from one victim to the next.”

 

Stoick tensed. “Do you have any idea who could be killing people?”

 

“I’m afraid I do not,” the tradesman confessed. “But I can warn you. This killer strikes during the night and is sneaky, so it would be wise to keep your people inside as often as possible, and in groups.”

 

“Yes, of course,” the Chief sighed. “Do you think he’ll strike Berk?”

 

“I’m not sure. His targets seem random but precise. They are not spontaneous, careless kills. Most of the victims are powerful figures, such as Chiefs or leaders. Some are warriors or medics.”

 

The group absentmindedly glanced over to Stoick as Johann spoke. The ginger-haired man stiffened yet again, then muttered, “Well let’s hope he keeps away from us.” Turning to the Dragon Riders, he ordered, “Make sure everyone is inside before sundown. Hang posters as well. I’ll call a meeting as soon as I can.”

 

“Will do,” Fishlegs assured.

 

The Dragon Riders scurried away, leaving Stoick and Johann to continue speaking about the mysterious killer.

 

/

 

Weapon X stood before Commander Fenrir, face devoid of emotion. The man before him nonchalantly flipped through a few pages of parchment within a folder, humming quietly while doing so. Weapon X was perfectly aware of what his leader was reading: the reports from all of Weapon X’s missions.

 

Eventually, Fenrir closed the folder and switched his attention onto Weapon X. The greasy-haired man smirked, finally speaking, “You’ve done very well, Weapon X. Very impressive.”

 

Weapon X made no sound, knowing it was safer than to risk speaking.

 

“You’ve successfully eliminated six threats to HYDRA. You should be proud. You are the new fist of HYDRA, and you are living up to what we have provided you with. You are returning the favors we have given you.”

 

Weapon X kept a façade of no emotion, but inside was defiant. He shouldn’t be proud about killing! Right? It wasn’t like those people had done anything to HYDRA first… right?

 

“In reward for your success, you are dismissed from training today and tomorrow. Well done, Asset,” Fenrir concluded. “Now go eat. You still need to build more muscle.”

 

Weapon X nodded, then left the room. Fenrir stared after him for a while, eyes narrowed. Turning to Ren in the corner, he asked, “Do you think he’s ready?”

 

Ren met his leader’s eyes evenly, expression thoughtful. “I don’t think so, sir,” the man admitted. “The Skrill powering The Chair is practically dead. If Weapon X remembers something it will be much harder to erase it.”

 

Fenrir hummed. “Alright. But that leads to another problem.” The Commander pulled out a map from one of his desk drawers, then unraveled it on the wooden surface. Ren leaned over, getting a good look at the map.

 

“There,” Fenrir murmured, pointing at a little mark symbolizing an island. “The next Skrill is likely to be there.”

 

Ren paused. “Sir, it was a miracle we caught our current Skrill. How are we going to do it again?”

 

“WE don’t have to,” the Commander chuckled. “There’s someone else that will.”

 

The other male cocked an eyebrow. “Weapon X?” he asked.

 

“Weapon X,” Fenrir confirmed. “And his catch will be the very thing to keep wiping his mind away.”

 

/

 

“Weapon X!” Ren barked a week later. The teenager perked up and scurried towards the man, dipping his head respectively. “You have a mission.”

 

The words sent a chill down Weapon X’s spine. Another one? Another person he’d be forced to KILL? To end someone’s fate?

 

“This one will be a capture, not a kill.” Oh. Was that better or worse? He had no clue.

 

“Yes, sir,” Weapon X murmured. He didn’t hesitate to take the outstretched file.

 

The parchment explained everything he needed to know about his mission, including a map and the names of his escorts.

 

Wait – he was capturing a Skrill? A dragon?

 

“Sir, I-I don’t know if I can capture a dragon,” Weapon X admitted meekly.

 

Ren huffed. “You can and you will. We have new equipment to help you with your task.” Weapon X shifted nervously and nodded.

 

“You leave tomorrow at dawn.”

 

/

 

Weapon X found himself aboard a ship the next day at dawn. He was already dressed in his mission attire, face hidden behind the muzzle-like mask and goggles. Which was convenient, since he didn't want the others seeing his worried expression.

 

How was he supposed to capture a dragon? And a Skrill, of all things! 

 

Weapon X perked up when he heard a shipmate speak up. He wasn't trusted alone for this mission, and was being accompanied by three HYDRA employees.

 

"Weapon X!" one man barked. The Asset strolled over, waiting for the order to come. "We must discuss your plan."

 

"The Skrill is on a hidden part of Berserker island," another man spoke up. "There are Vikings on that island, so you must not be seen."

 

"Understood," Weapon X confirmed. 

 

"Remember what Ren showed you," the first man added. "Sneak up on the Skrill and shoot it with the red arrow. It should take just one arrow to take the beast down."

 

"Understood," Weapon X repeated.

 

/

 

It took the rest of the day before they reached Berserker island. By the time they arrived, the sun had fallen and been replaced by the moon. Night reigned over the sky, giving the intruders the perfect camouflage.

 

Weapon X grasped onto the bow he was given, along with three red arrows. The red arrows were special and important for his task; they contained a special ingredient that disoriented a dragon and made it impossible for them to fly. If he managed to land a hit on the Skrill, it would be much easier to capture.

 

The brunet hopped off the ship and onto Berserker island. Behind him followed the three HYDRA agents, all armed just like him. But they were required as backup and weren't to step in unless the situation was dire.

 

Weapon X led the way into the lush forest. The Skrill was supposed to be residing in a mountain cave, not too far from where they had docked.

 

"That's the mountain," informed one of the HYDRA escorts while he gestured to a particularly tall mountain. Its peak couldn't even be seen through the dense clouds.

 

Weapon X and the HYDRA agents all loaded a grappling hook into their bows, then aimed for a ledge on the mountain. After a couple attempts, the hooks were secure and sturdy.

 

Weapon X had little difficulty climbing up the rope. The other HYDRA agents weren't trained as well as him and were panting from the effort. Once they reached the ledge, Weapon X was suffering nothing more than a slight ache in his muscles while the other three men were huffing and puffing, bent over tiredly.

 

Weapon X paused when he spotted a gap in the wall of the mountain. He loaded a red arrow into his bow, then cautiously approached the opening. His escorts recovered and followed after him, all alert.

 

The sixteen-year-old hesitated when he heard a shuffling noise from the depths of the darkness. He cast a look over his shoulder, but the other three stared unflinchingly, waiting for him to move.

 

Weapon X took a shaky breath and fished for a tool in his belt. He pulled out a match and a small green ball, which was full of Zippleback gas. Once it was ignited, it would explode in seconds.

 

The Asset struck the match swiftly, eventually starting a tiny flame. He hovered it over the green ball, which soon caught fire. Then, he tossed the green ball into the cave.

 

Less than two seconds after tossing the ball inside, an explosion took place.

 

BOOM!

 

There was a dragon-like squawk from inside, and then wing beats. Weapon X quickly held his bow up, red arrow loaded. He waited as the smoke cleared, and out came the Skrill.

 

The Skrill zoomed out from the fiery cave, roaring furiously. Its wings spread broadly and it snarled viciously, creating a true terrorizing image.

 

Weapon X stared in shock at the beast. It was so magnificent, how could he hurt it? How could he capture this innocent creature and take it back with him to possibly be tortured?

 

"Do it, Weapon X!" one of the men ordered. "Shoot it down!"

 

Weapon X shook his head and drew back the drawstring of his bow. The Skrill roared loudly, gathering lightning to shoot. Before the boy could get a hit on it, there was lightning being fired at him.

 

Weapon X used an aerial cartwheel maneuver to dodge the lightning shot. The HYDRA men dove away from the attack, though not nearly as gracefully.

 

Instinct kicked in. Weapon X drew back the drawstring yet again, aiming for the dragon's shoulder so the arrow wouldn't fatally wound it.

 

He released the arrow.

 

It went soaring through the air, right at the Skrill's shoulder. The Skrill was busy gathering lightning, oblivious to the incoming attack. Then, the arrow lodged itself into the purple and gray scales, earning a pained roar.

 

The Skrill struggled to keep itself airborne. It dropped a few feet in altitude, unintentionally lowering itself to its attackers. Lightning was aimed in all directions, nearly hitting Weapon X. He managed to avoid it, though, and hurried to shoot the dragon a second time.

 

A second arrow struck the Skrill just a few inches above the first arrow. The beast whimpered and dropped in height again, this time lowering to the mountain ledge.

 

The HYDRA men jumped into action and shot forward. One carried a canteen of water, and the other two carried bolas. In no time they were subduing the Skrill and rendering it defenseless. Powerless.

 

"Good work, Weapon X," one man grunted. 

 

Weapon X stared at the tied up Skrill, watching as they placed a muzzle over its mouth. 

 

He didn't feel pride at what he had done. He just felt disappointed in himself. But why? He had completed the mission, right?

 

/

 

As the Asset and his escorts returned to the ship with the Skrill, a pair of Berserkers approached them. The tribe had been woken in the night by the commotion, alerting them of an invasion.

 

"Hey!" someone exclaimed. "Who are you? What're you doing on Berserker island?"

 

"Is that a Skrill?" the second gasped. 

 

"Weapon X," one of the HYDRA men spoke. "Get rid of the witnesses."

 

Weapon X dipped his head in understanding, then turned to confront the two Berserkers. They were both male, no older than thirty years of age. Both were bulky and muscular, but didn't share the knowledge of combat Weapon X had.

 

"They're intruders, you dimwit!" the ginger-haired one huffed. "We need to get the Chief!"

 

Weapon X winced at what was to come and loaded an arrow in his bow. He shot at the ginger-haired one, right in the throat. 

 

The blond male gasped and darted forward to catch the other Berserker as he collapsed. "You!" the blond growled. 

 

Weapon X loaded a second arrow, but before he could shoot, the blond charged with a sword. The arrow was deflected by the metal blade, and the Berserker tackled the brunet to the ground.

 

The Asset grunted at the force, but quickly took action. He lifted a leg to kick the Berserker off of him, then pin him to the ground. Except the Berserker copied his move and he was thrown off.

 

They stood across from each other, eyes narrowed. The blond charged again, but Weapon X sidestepped and dodged.

 

Then, before the Berserker could react, Weapon X raced forward. He launched himself into the air and wrapped both legs around his enemy's neck, then swung around.

 

In seconds the blond was on the ground, being choked by the Asset's legs. For extra measure, the sixteen-year-old reached into his belt to grasp onto a dagger. 

 

He plunged the blade into his opponent's chest, ending his life.

 

Weapon X vomited once he untangled himself from the dead Berserker.

 

None of his other kills ended with blood on him. This one did.

 

/


End file.
